Fake Dates and Mooncakes

by Sher Lee

Chinese people believe names have a powerful effect on how something or someone will turn out, which is why most restaurants are called some variation of Happy, Lucky, or Golden.

Grief has a way of sneaking up on you when you’re least expecting it. A song, a phrase, a scent…then you’re falling into an empty space inside that you thought you’d patched. That you thought could bear the weight.

For once, the guy I have a crush on isn’t either terminally straight or already taken.

“They align every now and then,” Aunt Jade points out. “Eclipses are pretty memorable.”

His smile can light up my entire day, but that’s the thing—it seems as easy for him as flipping a switch.

“Doing stupid things and jeopardizing your future only works if your parent actually cares about you.”

“Actually, Uncle Herbert, MSG is a naturally occurring amino acid in tomatoes and cheese, which is extracted and fermented in a way similar to yogurt and wine,” he says. “I know you love a glass of cabernet sauvignon—so the myth that MSG in Chinese food is bad for health isn’t just untrue but actually xenophobic.”

“There’s a Chinese saying my aunt loves: yǒu yuán qiān lǐ lái xiāng huì.” “What does it mean?” Catherine asks. “ ‘We have the destiny to meet across a thousand miles.’ ” I don’t dare to look at Theo. “That’s kind of how I felt when we met. The way our paths crossed was so out of the blue that I couldn’t help but think something in the universe must’ve aligned.”

“Pretty sure Theo’s got more than takeout in mind.” She grins. “You know, Netflix and chill. Or should that be IMAX and climax?”

“I’m beginning to see why he likes you so much.”

“Yǒu yuán qiān lǐ lái xiāng huì,” I say. “ ‘We have the destiny to meet across a thousand miles.’

I lean in and kiss him. He doesn’t move—I’m sure I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life, but then his mouth opens against mine, and my world spins out of orbit in the best way possible. There’s no one else around, just the two of us inside a two-thousand-year-old Egyptian temple—no other reason for him to kiss me back except that he wants to.

“He can choose to cut me out of his life—but I won’t let him decide who to cut out of mine.”

“I love your boyfriend, Dyl. Not in that way, of course. But who needs an actual boyfriend when we have yours?”

“A special kind of palm sugar made in Malaysia,” she says. “The state of Malacca, to be exact, which is how it got its name. But there’s one problem. We can’t get the exact type of gula melaka here.”

“The sugar produced by each palm plantation has its own unique flavor, depending on the soil and the climate of the region,” Aunt Jade replies. “Some taste smoky-sweet; others have notes of toffee and caramel and butterscotch. Por Por’s friend would harvest the sugar by hand at their small family plantation in Malacca and bring her a few jars. This is the closest dupe I could find at the store.”

“Then tell me what you want me to do.” Theo takes my hand in both of his. “I’ll do it. Please, Dylan. Don’t give up on us.”

“If two people have the destiny to meet, not even a thousand miles can keep them apart.”

Aunt Jade shakes her head. “These are just things, Dylan. They can be fixed. Replaced. I’m more worried about you. Seeing how much you’re hurting over what happened with Theo is a lot worse than a shattered shopfront.”

“Giving your heart to someone is like learning to ride a bike. You’ll skin your elbows and knees, but the pain will pass. You’ll heal. And one day, the scars will be a memory, not of falling, but of getting up again.”

“Because every story can have a different ending.” Aunt Jade’s expression is meaningful. “It all depends on which one you want to believe in.”

“I guess I learned that when everything seems impossible,” I finish, “sometimes the best thing you can do is keep calm and make mooncakes.”

“The first time I walked into your aunt’s takeout, I knew I wanted to be with you,” he says. “You make me happy, Dylan. More than you know. I just hope I can do the same for you.”